Just as I was getting ready to call it a night last night, I was suddenly treated the unmistakeable scent of a skunk. Somebody’s cat or dog had picked the wrong animal to argue with and was now paying the price.
Then I remembered Tom was outside.
The last couple of times I smelled a skunk, Tom was innocently on the front porch awaiting his chance to come in the house. Not last night though. Of course not. I turned on the lights on the back deck and there he was, eye swollen shut from getting sprayed, right in the face. I could smell him through the door.
It only happens when Earl is out of town.
I herded him into the garage (ever trying herding cats?) where he carried on like a madman and I figured out my strategy. I grabbed some old towels, finally cornered him and got him in the kitchen sink where I washed him with everything but the kitchen sink. Shampoo, dish detergent, vinegar.
He then spent the night in the garage.
This morning he doesn’t smell too bad but the garage stinks to high heaven; I think it needs to be aired out. I’m probably going to leave the garage door open all day and hope some miracle wind comes through and wipes out this stench.
Such a lovely adventure.